


I hate titles so much

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Sick Character, Sick Lance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: From an anon request: "so i'm imagining lance being super stubborn to ask the others for help. he's been nursing a bad cold for a couple days and all the while has been quiet and stifling symptoms- the group just thinks he's in a mood. he gets worse and finds himself badly feverish late in the night and coughing every other breath and he's so tired, he just desperately needs relief at this point. cue a confused shiro waking up to a hot hand and a hoarse whimper asking him where he can find some cough medicine."





	

Lance knew that he should be paying attention, but it was difficult. Keith and Pidge were sparring, and while usually Lance would be providing cheers and other various sound effects, his head was pounding presently, and he just couldn't bring himself to focus on the match.

He'd been like this for two days, going on three--fighting off a bad cold. But it was nothing more serious than that, so he'd opted not to say anything. It wasn't a secret that he could get on nerves, and while he wasn't sure whether anyone would yell at him for whining about not feeling well, he was sure that he couldn't handle it if they did, and so rather than take the risk, he was keeping it to himself.

"Lance, you want a second go?" Shiro asked. When Lance opened his eyes, he found that Pidge and Keith had already finished their match.

"That was a fast match," Lance muttered. Hunk cracked a smile.

"It really wasn't--you just fell asleep." Had he really? That was embarrassing.

"So, what do you say: round two?" Shiro repeated. Lance shook his head.

"I'm tired," he admitted, "I think that's enough for me today." Even just bowing out of extra training was grating on his throat, and he knew that he'd reached his limit for the day when he stood and everything whirled around him. "I think I'm just gonna turn in early."

He didn't wait for a response before turning and exiting the training room.

"What's with him?" Pidge asked.

"He's just in a mood because you kicked his ass," Keith smirked. Pidge looked a bit hesitant, but laughed. Lance was normally just as excited as she was when she beat him in training.

"Maybe he _is_ just tired," Hunk supplied. "We'll let him get a nap in before dinner."

But Lance didn't come out of his room for dinner. Hunk suggested someone check on him, offered to do it, but Keith had advised him against it.

"If he wants to sulk, let him," Keith said. 

* * *

 

Lance had truly gone straight to sleep, and the next time he opened his eyes, it was because he had shivered himself awake. He was freezing despite being wrapped in blankets, and his chest--there was a dull weight, a deep congestion that rattled with every breath he took, making it so that he had to fight coughs every time he inhaled. He glanced at the clock: 3:28. He wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but his chest hurt, and breathing was so much work that it was a genuine concern that he might stop doing it if he weren't consciously trying. When he started coughing, it was hard to stop. He was able to get it under control for the most part, but every breath he took ended in small, wet coughs that he stifled through a closed mouth.

He needed someone. Shiro. Shiro would help.

Lance pulled himself out of bed with some difficulty and staggered down the hall for their leader's room. By the time he got there, his vision was foggy and dark, and he didn't even want to knock--instead, he slid the door open and beelined for Shiro's bedside. There, he sunk to his knees, too dizzy to stand and not wanting to pass out on Shiro's floor, and reached up for Shiro's bare flesh arm.

"Shiro," Lance croaked--when did his voice get that bad? It was hard to think straight. Lance shook Shiro lightly, and breathed a congested sigh of relief when Shiro started to stir. The Black paladin shot up in bed when he finally felt Lance's hot hand on his arm, and took a moment to calm himself. His eyes finally adjusted to the dark and focused on the hunched figure kneeling at his bedside.

"Lance?" Shiro called. Lance wondered how he got his voice to sound so far away. "What are you doing in here?"

"Do you--" he paused to cough, long and deep, leaving him breathless and wheezy, "do you know where I could find cough medicine?" Shiro reached out to Lance's forehead and cursed at the heat pouring off it. 

"I'll get Allura," he promised. "Lie down." Shiro helped Lance get situated into the Black paladin's bed with only minimal protest.

"Is this why you skipped dinner?" Shiro asked as he settled a shivering Lance beneath his blankets. Lance nodded. "You should have told someone you weren't feeling well."

"Didn't want to get yelled at for whining," Lance replied.

"I wouldn't have done that," Shiro argued. "You're really sick, Lance. This isn't a minor fever. Even Keith wouldn't have given you any crap for this." Lance shrugged.

"I didn't know," he said simply.

"Well, now you do," Shiro finished. "I'm getting Allura and Coran for medicine--will you be okay here on your own for a minute?" Lance nodded through a wheezing breath, and Shiro hesitated, but left the room anyway.

A minute later, he came back with a very tired-looking Keith following behind him.

"Keith?" Lance asked incredulously, his surprise turning into an alarming coughing fit that woke the Red Paladin immediately, leaving him staring at Lance wide-eyed and fearful.

"You sound like shit," Keith noted concernedly. 

"Why Keith?" Lance ignored.

"Hunk is a heavy sleeper, and have you ever woken Pidge in the middle of the night? She'll eat you alive," Shiro shuddered. "Keith was our best bet."

"I don't need a babysitter," Lance rasped. Even as he said it, Keith and Shiro could see what a conscious effort it was to breathe.

"Just humor me," Shiro said. "I'll be back," he informed, turning to Keith. "Come get me if he gets worse."

Shiro left the room and Keith stood awkwardly to the side of the bed.

"You can sit," Lance offered, "You look tired."

"It's almost 4 in the morning," Keith argued, but he sat down on the corner of the bed anyway.

"Sorry," Lance apologized. He looked genuinely guilty enough that Keith felt bad for complaining about it.

"Not your fault," Keith brushed him off. "Though it would have been nice if you'd said something before scaring the shit out of Shiro."

"Sorry," Lance repeated. He was drifting, his eyes remaining shut longer and longer with every blink.

"Hey," Keith barked, perking Lance up immediately, "Stay awake until Allura checks you over."

Lance nodded, but he was already halfway asleep again, and this time, didn't respond to Keith's angry, then worried voice calling his name, nor did he stir when Keith went running down the hallway banging on Pidge's door. He didn't hear Pidge's threat to kill Keith when she opened her door, nor did he hear Keith desperately explaining that Lance wouldn't wake up and he had to go get Shiro, but didn't want to leave Lance alone because he was really, really sick.

He felt a cool, small hand on his forehead and heard its owner curse under her breath, but didn't do anything more than crack his eyes open for a second. They felt so heavy. 

In fact, the next thing he  _was_ aware of was Allura's icy hands on the back of his neck. He moaned in discomfort, and she shushed him gently. 

"I need to you look at me," she coaxed. "I've got something that will help you feel better." When Lance reluctantly opened his eyes, he was greeted by all of his fellow paladins, plus Allura and Coran, huddled around him, looking nervous and tired. 

"S'goin' on?" he slurred.

"You don't remember?" Keith frowned. 

"He was pretty out of it," Shiro explained. "Still is. You're sick, buddy." Lance blinked. Sick. That made sense--he felt terrible.

"I need you to swallow this," Allura said, holding out a small cup of liquid toward Lance. It was white and milky, and while it didn't look very appetizing, it didn't smell like anything at all, and when Lance drank it, he found it refreshingly cool on his throat. 

"Can I go back to sleep now?" Lance asked, but he didn't wait for a reply.


End file.
